Guardsman
by KnightErrant
Summary: A young guardsman's perspective on his first battle. R&R would be appreciated! if you'd like this to become a multi chapter fic just leave a review saying such and I may be persuaded!
1. Chapter 1

**Full deployment in 10 minutes. Guardsmen to the assault ladders. The Emperor Protects.**

Droned the recorded monotone of a long dead Commissar.

Breathe. Just breathe. I grip my Lasgun tighter, softly saying a prayer to the weapon of war's machine spirit."Spirit may your sight be true and your wrath swift. Aid me in the coming maelstrom of battle. May your anger smite my foes. May you bring harsh judgement to the Xeno, the Heretic and the Traitor. May the enemies of Man fall before your blessed fire." A fresh energy cell is slid home, gauges are checked, power levels flashing a reassuring green as I tighten the strap on my helmet, taking a shuddering breath as I head towards the assault ladder. The sound of incessant artillery shells slamming into the earth embankments above, shaking the ground and causing a relentless rain of clods of dirt, rock and mulched plant life.

I didn't belong here.

I join my squad. Others. Some older, scarred individuals who look over my fresh uniform and unbuttered rifle and then look away, no words. They never speak any words to the Fresh Ones.

"Oh Emperor, He who sits on the Golden Throne of Holy Terra, guide our hands and fill our hearts with your righteous fury!"

A passing member of the Ecclesiarchy spouts the words of the Guardsman's Primer. Some of the Fresh Ones seem to take heart, responding when the prayers call for it, making the sign of the Aquila and closing there eyes.

The hardened men ignore the cleric and focus on their weapons. Battered, ugly things that have seen death in all its forms and dealt several kinds in turn. I look at my own weapon. Clean. Unmarred lines gleam with the fresh look that only newly assembled weapons of war have. The serial number and mark of the Omnissiah is still recognizable, the Imperial Aquila unscathed from the rigours of battle. The machine spirit untested in battle. I repress a shudder as I think of the consequences of a faulty machine spirit, an overcharge detonation would be the worst of my problems once the signal was given, but it wouldn't be a pleasant surprise.

"Platoon to the assault ladder! Up you go, move you Fethers!" The burly, bionic legged sergeant roared, carapace armour sheathing his body as he held the combat shotgun on his shoulder, pointing to the much abused and used ladder up to the assault bunker, reinforced redoubts with gates and armoured tops for sorties across the pulverized landscape.

Slinging my rifle over my shoulder I climb, following the man in front of me. 10 feet, then 20 feet climbed, the sounds of the artillery barrage gets more and more earth rattling the higher I climb. I hit the top of the ladder and take my position, waiting behind a pair of corroded gates with a single pair of lights beside it in the top right corner. The world is shaking as through the vision slits of the fortified bunker I can see great plumes of shattered earth flung in the air with every strike of the enemies weapons. Every bunker can, theoretically, hold a platoon. They never said it was a comfortable fit, but then again we weren't meant to stay long. The lieutenant is making his rounds, talking to the sergeants of the separate squads, nodding and making sure they know the drill. Charge across the open ground and meet the entrenched enemy. If you find cover before the enemy does, you shoot the sacred feth out of foul Xenos and hold it for the rest of the platoon

Simple, the way the Guard likes it.

I check my Chronometer, shivering at how close the signal is to sounding.

**1 minute to assault. Fix bayonets and prepare for battle. The Emperor Protects.**

In unison the men around me fix a variety of differently shaped blades to the ends of lasguns.

I look down to find myself doing the same, without thought or desire to do so. They train us well for our the ladder comes the Commissar, a tall, grim figure in black. Always black. The guardsmen move away from him, like he is plagued, grimacing and trying not to let him see their discomfort."Take heart men! Today we take the fight to the enemy! Let no man take a step back, drive the foul Xeno from this planet and your names shall live in glory as you will be brought to His side when your rest is finally earned!" The Commissar passes by me, I step back, allowing him past, I shudder as I see the flecks of blood and grey matter that fleck the front of his great coat. At least he didn't shoot the poor fethers in the back when he executed them for cowardice.I want to go home.

A dull chime starts sounding.

**30 seconds to assault. The Emperor Protects.**

I swallow bile, some of my fellow Fresh Ones aren't so lucky and vomit where they stand, gripping weapons in bone white grips. I look down and see myself doing the same. The artillery keeps shaking the ground, my teeth chatter and I hear a whimper beside me as another man hums a prayer to He on Terra.

**15 seconds to assault. **

"Keep your sights clean! Find cover and aim for center of mass! Keep your guns on half power to conserve shots! Emperor willing we'll show these fethers what foul Xeno can expect from humanity!"

**10 seconds to assault.**

The light flashes a dull, grimy green, I watch it, hoping for it to stop blinking. Please stop, I don't want to go out their. I want to go home. I hear a sob and hope it isn't my own.

The Commissar revs his chainsword and takes his bolt pistol from its holster, an eager grin on his face as he yells out, the artillery barrage intensifying, almost as if the enemy knows what we're about to do before we do it.

"Not one step back men! Cowardice breeds defeat! Courage breeds victory! For the Emperor! For the Imperium of Man!"

**5 seconds to assault.**

"The Emperor Protects." I say aloud, a few of the hardened men nod, others smile sardonically, the Fresh One beside me urinates himself where he stands."Slay the Xeno! Purge the heretic! Kill the Traitor! The Imperium of Man comes for relics of humanities dark past! Let no foe stand before us!" The Commissar yells, whipping the bravest and most simpleminded of us into a blood hungry mob.

**4 seconds to assault.**

**3 seconds to assault.**

The grimy green light in the top right corner blinks off, color draining rapidly from the glowing orb as it's partner glares a hateful red and a tinny marching tune that warbles with the fluctuating volume of the dilapidated old speaker as the rusty gates slowly grind open, corroded gears turning and opening the bleak, brown shattered landscape to our eyes, enemy artillery shells thudding into the ground only meters in front of us.

A shard of Xeno forged metal spirals into the close packed bunker and lodges itself firmly in the forehead of a guardsmen in front of me, he collapses in a heap, grey matter and blood mingling as it spills from his cloven head. A fresh faced teen standing near me takes a step back, the Commissar whirls immediately and fires a single bolt round into his head, the projectile detonating only after lodging deep in the poor youths brain before detonation, splattering those unlucky enough to stand near with his brain tissuem myself included. The Commissar turns back around nonchalantly, ignoring the newly made corpse cluttering the bunker's floor.

**2 seconds to assault. **

**1 second to assault.**

**Assault commencing. The Emperor Protects.**

The Commissar blows his whistle, and as one the platoon surges out, clearing the gate within moments as we sprint madly for the gouges in the earth that signify salvation in the otherwise open ground, looking along the trench line shows thousands, tens of thousands of similarly frantic figures doing the same, a shell lands in the midst of one of the closer groups, bodies are pulped into a fine red mist or sent spiralling into the air in mashed clumps of unrecognisable flesh and bone.

I want to go then, the shells start landing among us, throwing bodies into the air haphazardly, and there is no more time for thoughts of home.


	2. Chapter 2

"Feth! Feth! Feth me with a Lascannon!"

The youth beside me sobbed in barely articulate fear.

Shells rained down around us, I could only laugh hysterically as we sprinted through the plumes of fire and dirt, racing each other to get across the killing plains before the others, be the first to reach cover and huddle, screaming in a ball as the shells tore the world asunder around us.

"Onwards men! Forwards and to victory! Never falter for His gaze is fixed on us this day!" The Commissar roared encouragement, staying amongst us as he urged us on into the teeth of the Xeno's guns.

I was panting for breath, legs churning under me as I ran. Up ahead the Xenos trench line was visible. Crude idols of grinning fangs and sloped brows were hammered out of rough iron and debris. The beating of war drums and the raucous cries of bestial throats arose, eager for their enemies to come and do had ever been eager and willing to wage war on Xenos, but few Xenos waged war just as eagerly back as Orks.

"Abandoned earthworks! Up ahead!" The gruff sergeant roared eagerly as he kept pace with men twenty years his junior, bionic leg whirring and thumping into the ground, leaving heavy prints in the soft earth.

"Sergeant Florence! Take squad Primus and secure those earthworks! Sergeants Ambren and Theld! Reinforce with squads Triten and Thebos!" The lieutenant yelled over the screaming shells, sword and las pistol in hand as he ran with the younger Guards, making sure to encourage them and push them on, always keep an eye on the Commissar and his pistol.

"Sir! Alright boys! Into the hidey hole!" With a whoop of wild delight that was echoed by the more senior guardsmen in the unit. Sergeant Florence led the way, followed closely by his squad of hardened guardsmen.I ran along right behind them with my squad, fear making a home in my gut as my squad followed them in to support.

I nearly froze up and would have surely broken my neck from the head long fall into the ground if I hadn't kept running at the last moment when a squat, wide head appeared above the ramshackle fortifications in front of us. The dark green skinned beast grinned widely, all broken yellow teeth and crooked fangs. A massive green hand gripped the edge of the earthworks and hauled the rest of the thing into misshapen creature stood no taller than a man, but was equally as wide. Arms as thick as a strong man's legs and corded muscle so thick that it could not possibly be human.

"Xenos! Open fire!" The lieutenant yelled, immediately raising his las pistol and following his own Ork threw back it's head and roared in challenge, a roar that was quickly taken up by dozen more angry voices as the first orks brethren began pouring up from the trench line."Slay the Xenos! Put them down like the beasts they are! For the Emperor!" The commissar and the soldiers around him roared and opened fire, as did the rest of the sprinting troops around us.I pulled the trigger and grunted as the gun jerked in my hands, a blazing trail of red fire seared into one of the things, scorching it's flesh and punching a hole out it's back. It barely slowed at all as it came towards us, howling in delight at fresh opponents to fight.

Every ork was armed either with a crudely made heavy slug firing pistol with a unwieldy slab of metal akin to a cleaver, or a slapped together stubber that shot in a wide spray that kicked up dirt and mud as the slugs found the ground.

The distance closed, the battle hardened guardsmen with Sergeant Florence putting out a withering hail of las fire, whooping in savage glee as the brutes before them fell, leaking bodily fluids and with dozens of smoking holes in heads and other squads added their fire as well, picking off a few of the Xenos, but not enough.

The Orks kept running, howling and fighting each other to be the first into the fray, a guardsman to my left was shot in the leg, his knee cap coming apart as a heavy slug shattered it. He fell to the ground howling in Florence and his men met the orks head on, firing the Emperor's Wrath into the teeth of the Xenos charge before engaging them."Stab them in the fething bellies boys! These Grox-Fethers got too much bone on their chest!" Laughing madly, the sergeant opened his opponents belly with a long knife clutched in his hand before smashing the barrel of his shotgun into the orks roaring mouth, shards of broken teeth falling to the ground. When he pulled the trigger the orks head disappeared in a blast of bone, gore and scattered fangs.

"For the Emperor! For the Imperium!" Sergeant Theld roared, leading us into the fight, las pistol spitting death into the orks as he hacked into ones leg, forcing it to stumble to the ground with a howl before putting four rounds in its squat misshapen head.

I had no more time for watching my betters as I ducked under a heavy cleave wielded by an ork who had his eye on me and was growling as it swung, its pistol bucking his hand as slugs hit my flak vest, punching me off my feet.I gasped, aiming my gun and squeezing the trigger as rapidly as I could, lines of fire punched through its arms and chest as it came towards me, barely slowing it. A luck shot took it in the jaw, laying bare thick inhuman bone as its cheek was burned away. It stumbled back, dazed by the shot and I took my chance. I dove forward with my gun, bayonet ready and lodged it through the beasts belly, twisting and jerking upwards as the creatures thick, greasy organs spilled from the ragged hole. It howled in agony before I tore my bayonet out and impaled its skull, silencing its cries forever.

I choked back a pained gasp, my chest aching from where my flak vest had stopped the Xenos slug rounds.

I loosened my bayonet, metal scraping on the dead things skull and the gut churning sound of crunching bone. No sooner had I pulled my blade free then an ork, fresh from killing a squad mate, came roaring at me, slashes and cuts decorated its chest and a freely bleeding round hole was through the monsters arm. I screamed and fired at it, my energy cell running empty after the third shot.

It was only a few meters away when the Commissar dove in front of it, roaring a challenge.

"And lo! Though humanity huddled alone in the darkness! Scattered and divided by the gulf of the void! The Emperor did unite humanity through his righteous cause and divine will!"

His bolt pistol spoke and the things arm disappeared in a mess of pulped meat. Howling the ork reached for the commissar with its remaining hand, only to have it torn asunder by a churning blade of mono-molecular edged teeth.

The Commissar sneered and drove his sword tip first through the orcs chest, the sound of bone being cut through assaulted my ears as the thing died on the spot, lungs and organs ruptured by the hungry blade. The Commissar tore his blade free with a sneer and looked towards me."Never fear death at the hands of Xenos, Heretics or Traitors! For death in His name is the loftiest goal to aspire to men! Cowards are banished from his sight! The courageous and steadfast are brought into his fold!"

Roaring the words of the Ecclesiarchy's teachings, the Commissar waved the remaining troops into the earthworks, Sergeant Florence's squad had finished putting down the last of their opponents, the sergeant himself was in the process of crushing a mortally injured orcs head with his bionic leg, it pawed weakly, grasping for its cleaver until with the sound that was a mix between a cracking bone and a melon being burst, its head was mashed into the now blood soaked ground.

I gasped, letting the spent energy cell of my gun drop as I replaced it with a fresh one, stumbling towards the earthworks as the handful of survivors from both squads Triten and Thebos wearily pulled themselves down into the earthworks.I looked back to where the short, frantic melee had taken place.

Over a dozen mangled human corpses lay amongst the xenos, despite the over two dozen ork bodies I could not help but feel that it was not a fair trade. I dropped down into the trench, looking at the survivors of the frantic run across the battlefield to this damp, ramshackle line cut into the ground. Of the full strength platoon that began the assault, only thirty two remained.

I hung my head and swallowed the vomit that had risen in my mouth. And despaired of ever living through the day.


End file.
